


I Don't Hurt Anymore

by A_M_Kelley



Series: Love Rhombus [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Friendship, Gentle Sex, M/M, Making Love, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-09 11:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_M_Kelley/pseuds/A_M_Kelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are the way they should be.</p><p>Clint gets the guy. Steve knows everything. Thor seeks comfort. Tony acts like Tony. Bruce patches things up. And Nick Fury is the glue that holds it all together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Hurt Anymore

"Hey," Bruce said nervously.

Steve turned around on his stool, milk running down his chin as he tried not to choke on his cereal. He wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand and swallowed down the half chewed Captain Crunch. He didn't think anyone would be awake this early so it caught him off guard when Bruce sneaked up on him like that.

"Bruce," Steve coughed, trying to sound nonchalant. "What's up?"

Bruce walked around the counter and sat on the stool next to Steve, folding his hands on top of the speckled marble. He lowered his head and licked his lips, turning his head slightly towards Steve's direction. The depression written all over his face was hard to miss and when Steve saw it he knew what had happened to Bruce, because he too once had that look about him. Steve's face lighten a little and he attempted to console Bruce the best he could.

"Was it Tony?" Bruce nodded. "Shit... Bruce, I--"

"It's fine, Steve. I obviously haven't destroyed the building yet," Bruce laughed optimistically, beaming a genuine smile at Steve. "I knew it was coming. I just..."

"You wanted to hold onto it as long as possible," Steve finished.

Bruce stared blankly at Steve and looked away, because it was true. Steve of all people knew exactly what Bruce was going through, but the difference was that Bruce didn't love Tony the way Steve had. It was somehow easier to let go without that connection to muck things up, Bruce found. He wished it would've been easier for Steve and he suddenly felt guilty.

That night Tony and Bruce had taken advantage of Steve, the mental scarring that possibly left behind. Steve was too sweet for that, too pure and fragile, and yet so strong and resilient and so much better than them all.

"Yeah," Bruce said, and after a moment, "I'm sorry, Steve."

"What for?" Steve asked, twiddling his thumbs thoughtfully.

"For taking everything you cared about."

"I care about a lot of things, Bruce."

"And I'm sorry about that night," Bruce said remorsefully, the guilt making his voice thick.

Steve looked at Bruce, seeing how terrible he looked and how horrible he must feel, because unlike Tony, Bruce had a conscience and he could feel regret. Bruce was a good man underneath his layers and Steve could see that. He placed a hand over one of Bruce's and squeezed it lightly, giving him a heart warming smile.

"You actually weren't that bad," Steve blushed coyly.

Bruce stared at him with a fond smile, his face contorting into bubbly puzzlement as Steve nudged him with a playful elbow. Bruce nudged back and they both giggled, silently vowing to forget about the whole thing and Steve couldn't have asked for more than that. They both sat there after Bruce had gotten something to eat, enjoying the silence of the morning and occasionally poking a joke or two at eachother.

Steve actually enjoyed Bruce's company, after all he admired the man's work and held him in high regard. Some things just fog up so easily and you forget how you really feel when you try to deny it, but this time it'd be different. Steve felt great and he was optimistic about the future, that's what made him such a great leader. Always looking on the bright side of things.

Their talking and booming laughter seemed to stir the God of Thunder and he joined in on their breakfast and conversation. Thor was happy to hear that Bruce had apologized and they were friends again, telling them how awful it was to see friends ignoring eachother. But even as Thor said this and laughed right along with them, there was some kind of melancholic undertone in his words.

Steve was a little concerned and when Bruce left to take a shower he was all alone with Thor. The God of Thunder might be good at hiding his emotions, but Steve was even better at reading them. He walked over to the sink, near Thor, and set his bowl down running the water through it once then twice. Steve turned towards Thor, who was making himself a hefty helping of waffles, sliding down the edge of the counter to stand next to the blonde.

He drummed his fingers on the hard surface and bit his lip, Thor not noticing him or not wanting to. Steve didn't know which. Thor had his back to Steve, so Steve walked around the other side of him to look him in the eyes. Before Thor could turn away, Steve grabbed his arm to pull him back and give him a scornful look. Thor sighed heavily.

"What's wrong, big guy?"

"Nothing is wrong, my friend."

"Oh? There's practically a huge storm cloud above your head," Steve jeered. "What's eating you?"

"I'm currently not being enjoyed as an entrèe, but there is something bothering me."

Steve chuckled lightly and shook his head, knowing Thor was still not fully understanding the figures of speech and metaphors they used. He wasn't much different from Thor, he understood the practical things but not the references that Tony or anyone else would use.

"I was supposed to go home to Asgard for awhile, but decided against it. I'm needed here," Thor said.

"So you're homesick," Steve suggested, but Thor shook his head.

"Much less conventional than that, my friend," Thor mumbled. "I miss my brother. I know he's rotten to his core, but I still love him. Even if he doesn't love me back."

Thor lowered his head and his eyes drooped slightly, he looked like a sad puppy and Steve just wanted to squeeze him tight. Thor of all people shouldn't be allowed to be sad, because when people like him were hurting it was absolutely heartbreaking.

"Hey," Steve soothed, running a hand up and down the expanse of Thor's wide back. "I'm sure he loves you."

"He's tried to kill me, Steve," Thor said, trying to hold back a smile. Even Thor had to admit it was kind of funny, the relationship him and Loki had after all these years. He couldn't help but love the little devil.

"Every couple goes through disagreements, pal. It's part of the care package," Steve guffawed merrily, slapping Thor on the back.

"If we were a couple," Thor scoffed.

"Have you guys ever...? Or have you told him how you feel?"

Thor shook his head. "I couldn't. We're living in two different worlds, both physically and emotionally. We could never be."

"You know I'm always here for you, right? If you need a shoulder to cry on mine's available."

Thor squeezed Steve to his body as soon as the words left his mouth and he had his face buried into the juncture of Steve's neck and shoulder. Steve wrapped his arms around Thor's waist and waited for the tears that never came, it seemed as though Thor couldn't cry anymore and that all he needed now was contact. The feel of someone else holding him and telling him everything would be alright was what he wanted. Steve couldn't possibly say no.

They went into the living room and sat down on the sofa so Steve could cradle the God in his arms like a mother would a child. Thor was curled up against him, his head propped up on Steve's chest and a hand raking through his hair delicately. It was soft and fell through Steve's fingers gracefully.

Steve scooted over just a little so that Thor could lay his head in his lap. He breathing was deep and shallow and his eyes were closed, reveling in the feel of Steve's hand on his scalp. Thor could hear Steve humming a song he couldn't recognize and arching into the hand that slipped down his side and back up again, he let out a soft content sigh.

Steve let Thor lay there as long as he wanted and if anyone saw them, they didn't say or assume anything because it was simple affection. A friend helping a friend. It was actually kind of cute and amusing to Tony, two huge grown men cuddling on a sofa that was too small practically had him in tears of laughter. But that was how Tony's mind worked apparently.

After awhile Thor sat up and smiled warmly at Steve, thanking him for understanding his feelings and not judging him like most people would. It seemed Thor would be alright, for now, but he always had his friends to turn to and Steve showed him just that. Thor was more than grateful, but excused himself to his room and Steve didn't ask why. He just let him go.

"I don't know how you do it, Rogers," Tony droned from the kitchen, grabbing his coffee and sipping it experimentally. He sauntered over to where Steve was on the sofa and plopped down next to him. "People just love you."

"Besides you," Steve said straight-faced then smiled slyly. "People like me because I care and have a conscience. They trust me."

"Well you are the Captain."

Steve huffed a laugh and looked over at Tony thoughtfully, biting his bottom and shaking his head disgracefully at the arrogant, goatee sporting genius. Tony knew everything about sub-atomic particles, but nothing of the basic need for human emotion (which he had none of).

"I don't know whether that's a gift or a curse," Steve snorted.

"Definite curse, buddy."

"But I guess it's better than being a heartbreaker. If you try the same shit on Thor, that you pulled on me and Bruce, I'll kill you Tony," Steve remarked. Steve stood up and walked up to Tony's legs that were resting on the table top, waiting for him to let him by.

"He's not my type anyway," Tony tried to play off with a shrug, but it was far from convincing and he let Steve by.

Steve left the room with a small smile playing about his lips and walked down the hall. The punching bag was out of the question, he didn't need it anymore, but he had a promise of love making that Clint was supposed to live up to yesterday. The smile on his face only grew wider the closer he got to Clint's room and he rounded the corner with a spring in his step.

He didn't bother to knock when he reached the door, he figured Clint was still asleep and he wanted to surprise him. The door creaked open and sure enough Clint was fast asleep with the sheet wrapped around his lower half, his bare chest exposed to Steve. Steve walked up to the bed and sat down, making the bed dip with his weight. But Clint was a light sleeper and as soon as he felt the shift his eyes snapped open.

Clint grabbed at the unknown body and pinned it to the mattress, blinking past sleep foggy eyes to see the familiar face that was Steve. He released his grip a little and gave Steve a sly smile, moving off of him before certainly body parts could get involved. Not that either of them would mind, but Clint believed Steve needed a little romancing.

He sat back against the headboard as Steve got up and started to shred his clothes, that clung so well to his body, off. His shirt came off first then his pants, but Clint stopped him when he went for his underwear. Steve stared at him, puzzled by Clint's interference and the unsteady hands that rested against his hips. He raised a brow questioningly.

"What are you doing?" Clint asked.

"I recall you promising me sex," Steve purred, moving closer to nudge his nose playfully at Clint's. "Not complaining are you?"

Clint froze up suddenly, remembering what he said and being caught even more off guard when Steve closed the distance between them to kiss him on the lips. His lips responded to Steve's, opening up after the third peck to let their tongues do all the talking. Their hands pawed at eachother, trying to feel the warmth and excitement just beneath the surface.

"Not at all," Clint said breathlessly when they parted long enough.

At those words Steve was stripping faster than a dancer on a pole and Clint couldn't be more eager. Clint threw back the blanket covering him to reveal that he wasn't wearing a shred of cloth, winking suggestively at Steve then claiming his lips once again. Steve's hands roamed around Clint's stomach, moving down further to grip his cock and gave it a twisting stroke. Clint gasped and chuckled at the wickedness of Steve.

He was left breathless as Steve assaulted his mouth and twisted his hand along his hard length. Steve kissed the gasps and moans from Clint's lips, moving his hand up and down in slow steady strokes to spread the moisture coming from the tip. Clint put a hand on Steve's to stop him, panting out unintelligible syllables and moving over Steve to press his weight against him. The super soldier was flat against the mattress and open to Clint's watchful eye, shivering when Clint ran a hand up his chest.

Clint bent down and kissed Steve's collarbone then bit it, causing Steve to arch and squirm and groan into the tooth filled suction of Clint's mouth. He soothed the bite mark with a lick and moved down Steve's body, leaving marks in his wake and savoring every noise that fell from those full lips.

Steve watched as Clint pulled back and reached for the night stand's drawer, wiggling a bottle in front of his face with a cheshire cat grin. Steve knew what the contents of the bottle and blushed crimson at the thought of what would happen next, not knowing exactly why he was nervous.

The bottle snapped open and Steve flushed bodily, that sound alone turning him on beyond belief. Licking his lips, Clint poured a generous amount on his fingers and spread it around, looking at Steve's hazy blue eyes that silently pleaded for contact. Steve hadn't been touched yet and his was practically aching for touch, needing it more than anything.

Clint pressed two fingers against Steve's entrance and pushed gently in, noticing the way Steve's breath hitched and stomach flexed at the much welcomed intrusion. The fingers wiggled and scissored, stretching and preparing Steve gingerly. He curled the digits smoothly that caused a breathy high pitched moan to escape Steve's throat, his brows knitting together and mouth widening into a prominent "O".

He clenched and unclenched around Clint's fingers and pushed his body further down the bed to get them deeper. Clint grinned and added another finger, making Steve go rigid as if he had found the perfect spot. Steve threw his arms above his head and let loose all the pent up moans that begged to be heard. Steve was so far gone that he hardly realized it when Clint withdrew his fingers from him slowly.

Clint squirted some of the cool liquid into his hand and bit his lip to keep from moaning, but Steve didn't seem to notice either way. His face was blissed out and ruddy with eager arousal, making the sheets twist from his active squirming. Clint took a shakey breath after he applied the slippery gel to himself and positioned the tip at Steve's prepared entrance.

In one fluid movement Clint pushed inside, swallowing a gasp that sent an electric pulse up his spine. It almost felt like a punch to the gut that felt all too good and he couldn't quite recover from it. Steve placed a sweaty hand on Clint's chest, feeling the thundering of his heart and squeezing him slightly to try and calm him. Steve raised his hips to get Clint's attention, telling him to move before he exploded with impatience.

"Please," Steve whined, pulling Clint down to kiss him and pant into his mouth. "Make love to me, Clint."

Clint pecked Steve on the lips, pulling out slowly and pushing back in, making each movement count and mean something other than sex. Their strained breaths mingled in the closeness of eachother and both men were already burning with their arousal, sweat beginning to form on their joined foreheads. Steve arms were wrapped around Clint's waist, keeping him in place.

Clint began a steady rhythm that consisted of pulling all the way out, when only the tip was in, then pushing back in agonizingly slow. He was driving Steve crazy and enjoyed every little moan and frustrated push of hips. His cock throbbed and pulsed, a signal going to his brain to move his hips faster but he wasn't going to. He needed control.

Steve's body buzzed with impulses at every thrust against his prostate and he moaned like it was nobody's business. He wrapped a hand around his cock to get things moving faster because he couldn't take much more of this torture. His hand was a blur and his stomach was clenching in the anticipation of release that he needed.

Motivated by the sounds that came out of Steve and the strong need to come, Clint moved more, not exactly fast, but enough to make him forget where he was for a moment. His heart sped up and his panting grew in momentum, his cock being gripped just right as his hips moved on their own accord.

Steve made a choked up sound and came across his chest and stomach, moaning Clint's name and nonsense in the afterglow of orgasm. His body shook with tremors after he had settled down a little, his cock twitching eachtime Clint bumped his prostate. Too sensitive to move or do much of anything, Steve let Clint use him anyway he wanted.

Clint bent over, his hips still thrusting at just the right pace, and smashed his mouth against Steve the moment he felt a sensation in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't hear anything anymore and the only thing that existed was Steve's lips locked softly on his. And Clint came hard when Steve had slipped his tongue into his mouth.

Out of breath and energy, Clint felt like shattered glass when he crumbled onto Steve's sweat slick form. His throat was hoarse from panting and his lips chapped over from his erratic breathing, feeling thoroughly well fucked. He looked down at Steve, becoming aware that his chest was now covered in semen, he rolled off with a polite smile and grabbed his sheet to clean them off the best he could.

Steve curled up against Clint and grinned from ear to ear like a fool. He craned his head up and kissed Clint on the lips once again.

"Steve, I feel there's something I need to say," Clint murmured, carding a hand through Steve's hair.

"Don't," Steve beamed ardently, "I know everything you want to say."

**************

"I think things are finally going to be normal. As normal as they can be, at least," Steve huffed.

"Do you really believe that?" Fury asked evenly.

"Yeah. I do. Not saying I'm not afraid of future problems or anything..."

"That's why you're the leader Captain Rogers. You're the bravest and most honest out of all these men. And I'm just the man who keeps the order between you bickering pretty boys," Fury chuckled.

"No argument there, sir," Steve guffawed heartily. "I'll catch up to you later, Colonel. Thor's making some banquet for us. Lord knows what's in it." Steve turned on a heel and before he was out of earshot, Fury called after him.

"Hey Rogers."

He turned around and saw Colonel Nick Fury salute him, saluting back with an honorable smile on his face. And Fury said the words he'd remember for the rest of his days.

"Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid."

 

«The End»

**Author's Note:**

> Last thing that Fury says to Steve is a quote by Franklin P. Jones.


End file.
